Marion Lennox - The Heir’s Chosen Bride

Maybe she wouldn’t come out, he thought. Maybe a message wouldn’t work.

He took his wallet over to American Airlines. ‘I have a ticket two days from now,’ he told them. ‘Any chance of swapping it for today?’

‘The flight’s fully booked,’ he was told. The girl behind the counter eyed him dubiously, and he thought that even if he had been booked there might be trouble. He’d dragged on jeans, a windcheater and trainers but he hadn’t shaved that morning and he’d come straight from the beach.

And he knew he looked desperate.

Hell.

The gates stayed shut. She’d be through there, sitting, miserable, maybe crying…

He stared at the screen. There was Susie’s flight, leaving in forty-five minutes. Any minute now they’d start boarding.

The flight straight after that was to New Zealand.

Susie’s flight was from Gate 10.

The New Zealand flight was from Gate 11.

Act cool, he told himself, trying frantically to be sensible. If you launch yourself at the counter and act desperate, they’ll drag you off as a security risk.

So he sped into the washroom, washed his face, bought a comb and a razor from the dispenser and spent precious minutes transforming himself from a beach bum with hair full of sand to someone who might board an international flight with business in mind. Casual but cool.

He stared at himself in the mirror. What was missing?

Ha! Five more precious minutes were spent buying a briefcase and a couple of books to bulk it up.

Then a walk briskly to the Air New Zealand counter, feeling sick with tension and with the effort not to show it. ‘Any chance of getting onto the flight this afternoon? I only have hand luggage. I’m booked for a US flight in two days but I’ve finished what I need to do here and could usefully see some of my people in Auckland.’

His authoritative tone worked. The girl looked him up and down-and smiled. ‘Do you have a visa?’

He did. The work he did required travel at a moment’s notice and he always had documentation.

‘There’s only economy available,’ she said, and he almost grinned. What value a comb?

‘Thank you.’

Which way was New Zealand?

Why would she want to buy perfume?

‘Let’s have a look at duty-free cigarettes.’

‘You don’t smoke,’ she told herself.

‘I might. If I get desperate enough.’

‘Are you all right, madam?’ an assistant asked, and she blushed.

‘Um…yes. Just telling my daughter about the evils of smoking.’

Hell, why was security taking so long? The line stretched forever.

‘Passengers for Air New Zealand, please come through the priority line.’

Thank God for that. But when he was through…

‘They’re boarding already. If you’d like to board the cart we’ll get you straight to the boarding gate.’

Fine. But he was jumping off early.

She wasn’t in the departure lounge.

Where was she?

‘This is the final boarding call for Flight 723 to Auckland…’

Where was she?

‘Pardon me, sir, your flight is ready for boarding. You need to come this way.’

‘Not until I find who I’m looking for!’

There was a commotion down near her boarding gate. Shouting. Beefy security men, running.

Then a couple of burly giants escorting someone back toward the entrance area.

Susie glanced up from her rows of Havana cigars…

Hamish.

‘Excuse me,’ she said faintly, stepping out into their path. ‘Where are you taking him?’

‘Security,’ one of the guards said brusquely. ‘Step aside, ma’am.’

She was holding a box of Havana cigars in one hand, Rose in the other. She dropped the cigars.

With huge difficulty she managed to hold on to Rose.

‘You can’t take him away,’ she said faintly. ‘He’s mine.’

‘SO YOU see, you need to come home.’

They weren’t going anywhere right now. The chief of airport security had raised his eyebrows, shrugged and shown Hamish, Susie and Rose into his office, closing the door on three trouble-makers.

‘Take her baggage off the plane,’ he growled to his staff as he left them to it. ‘American Airlines is already boarding. She’s officially missed the plane and if she objects I’ll have them booked for nuisance. Or something.’

But there was no way she’d object. The security head was smiling as he closed the office door behind them-and he just happened to nudge a wastepaper bin full of crumpled paper in Rose’s direction. He had kids himself and he knew what was needed here was a bit of distraction so the adults of the party could sort themselves out.

Rose obliged. She immediately started emptying the trash, paper by paper, perusing the security memos of the day with all seriousness, then ripping them into tatters, more thoroughly than any shredder.

Hamish wasn’t reading anything. He was holding every part of Susie he could reach.

‘But I still don’t understand,’ she whispered when she could finally find room to speak. She’d just been very thoroughly kissed. She was snuggled against him and he smelt of the sea. He tasted of the sea. Her Hamish. ‘Just because you found Taffy…’

‘I cried when I found Taffy,’ he told her. ‘It felt right. And then the thought of sending Taffy to you in America felt wrong.’

‘So you’re saying…?’

‘I want to marry you. I want to marry you more than anything else in the world.’ Then he hesitated. ‘No. That needs improvement. I already asked you to marry me and you very rightly threw it back in my face. But it’s different this time. It’s more than just the love thing. Susie, I want us to be a family more than anything else in the world.

‘Which means?’

‘Reorganising,’ he said bluntly. ‘Not taking you back to my life. Not being part of your life. Making a new life for all of us where all the pieces fit in a new whole. Where all of us are a part of it.’

‘Just because of Taffy,’ she whispered, awed.

‘Just because of you,’ he told her. ‘When I found Taffy, I thought how fantastic it was that I’d found her, and then I thought that I’d found our dog but I’d lost the most important person in the world. Here I was, crying about a pup when my life was gone. And I suddenly realised why you cried-and why you stopped crying. You must love me. You must. Please, Susie…’

‘Of course I love you,’ she said, and tried to smile. ‘How could I not love those knees?’

‘A woman with taste.’

She silenced him with a kiss, and the kiss lasted deeply and satisfactorily through the shredding of at least ten more security memos.

It was a kiss where all questions were answered. Where there was no need for words.

It was a kiss where two people found their home.

‘The first time I asked you to marry me I was dumb,’ Hamish whispered at last, when he could finally find the space to get the words out. She was cradled on his knees and he was holding her as if he’d never let her go. ‘But, Susie, I swear this is different.’

‘I know it’s different,’ she said scornfully. ‘You think I’m dumb?’

‘I’d never think you’re dumb.’

‘You don’t mind that I’ve been married before?’

He answered that with another kiss. ‘You don’t mind that I almost married Marcia?’

‘No, but this is different, too,’ she said, trying to be serious. ‘Marcia and you…you weren’t really engaged. But I did love Rory. I never thought I could love again, but his love, this love…it’s just…’

‘This is a love for who you are now,’ he said, hugging her tight while the world steadied on its axis. ‘Are you worried that I’ll be jealous of Rory? That I’ll make you put away his photographs? Hell, Susie, Rory’s part of my family and I need all the family I can get.’